TO BE HONEST, Dear Farmketeers, we are not really foodies. Oh sure, we grow 31 kinds of tomatoes, 477 types of fruit trees, and 76 varieties of apples – some of them more exotic, dare we say recherché, than a … Continue reading →

DEAR FARMKETEER: Are you a meaning junkie? Are you you always asking, “What is the meaning of all this? What does that even meannnn?” Not to worry! We can help. In this week’s Fresh Crop Alert, we decipher the … Continue reading →

DEAR PEACHNIKS: Thursday morning. A quiet August morning for a couple old peaches down at the lake. This is the quiet AFTER the storm. Earlier this week, during the flash BOGO peach sale, you wholly stripped the donut peaches and … Continue reading →

DEAR FARMKETEERS, everybody always wants to know: “What have you done for me lately? What will you do for me next?” Our answer to both is: “Donuts.” What have we done for you lately? Opened the donut peaches for u-picking. … Continue reading →

WHO IS THE BEST PERSON to be stuck on a desert island with? A dreamy star like Tom Selleck or Morgan Fairchild? A brilliant doctor to save you from mosquito bites? A Wall Street lawyer to help you milk that … Continue reading →

NOBODY IN THE WORLD knows the answer to this question: “Hkjs kguyt ouyt ugaa skjgt 42 asfafdsak?” That’s what farming feels like some days. We don’t know the answers and we can’t pronounce the questions. And we don’t know who … Continue reading →

IS THERE SOMEONE you care for with all your being? And they care for you? And you are good for them and they are good for you? But you can’t be together right now? It hurts. And that’s how it … Continue reading →

DEAR FARMKETEERS, an old book blamed everything on a naked lady, an apple, and a serpent. But everybody knows it was a hippo and a raspberry. This is the Raspberry of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. You might scream, … Continue reading →

BELOVED ‘CREEKNIKS: Yesterday was Independence Day, and we were quickly admonished by at least one Farm Fan that we should call it INTERDEPENDENCE Day. Fair enough. Nothing says interdependence like the pageant of rampant nationalist fervor called the World Cup. … Continue reading →